Symbiotic
by j3nnee
Summary: Neal wanders into a gun fight between the FBI and Russian mobsters. Whumpage and whole lot of excitement! Some spoilers or atleast reference to past and current seasons.
1. Chapter 1

**(Chapter 1)**

Neal was listening in to the feed as Peter spoke over the wire. He had been allowed to tag along but it was a dangerous assignment and they didn't want him in the way. They did need his ears though. Peter and the gang had notice he had an usually good ear when it came to identifying sounds. The person they were chasing had an alarm system they were trying to crack and hoped that the bug they planted near it would allow them access to his stash and him if Neal could ID the sounds. He had and they were inside trying to find him and the stash of illegal weapons.

Neal sat in the van monitoring along with a few other agents and Jones who had been held back due to a bad ankle. He had hurt it over the weekend and they had benched him from anything physical till it was healed up.

"So... what was it you were doing when you twisted your ankle, Jones?" Neal was bored so he was poking around for anything to distract himself but was doing a better job of distracting others. Jones sighed.

"Not now, Caffrey. I need to listen to this feed as do you." His tone was final as Neal nodded, his blue eyes flashing slightly as he heard something loud over the earphones he had taken off. They clung around his neck like a scarf, Neal pushing them halfway on as he saw the look on Jones' face.

"_We're taking fire! We need that back up now Jones if you can manage it!_" It was Peter's voice and he sounded desperate. Neal pushed the earphones back up to his ears listening intently. His face paled when he heard the next voice.

"_Peter! Peter get up! Agent down! Where's that back up? Jones can you hear me..._" Neal knew exactly who was speaking as he listened. It was Diana. He was already pulling the earphones off from around his neck, grabbing something beside him and quietly disappearing out the door. Jones turned and found Neal missing, his manner upset as he realized what happened.

"We're sending them your way, Diana. How's Peter?" Jones tried not to say anything about Neal having left since he had to stay and monitor things.

"_The vest took the brunt but he's stunned. Waiting for him to wake up._" Diana sounded only slightly panicked, her voice calm but she was an experienced agent, Jones knew she would handle it till help came. He finally decided to tell her what was up with Peter out of it.

"Diana... Caffrey's gone missing from the van. When we heard Peter got hit, he vanished. I wonder if he went to help you guys out. Can you tell me if you see him? I don't see why else he would have run off at that particular moment." Jones was trying to sound calm but he knew that Peter was going to be angry when he woke up and found out what Neal had done. He heard Diana answer with a sigh.

"_Sure thing, Jones. How much longer till that back up arrives? We're taking on... wait... I think I see them. (We need a medic to look at my boss here. Yes...)_" Diana's voice trailed off a bit as she talked to the back up crew, gun fire still evident in the background as Jones listened. He worried about Peter but was worrying more about where Neal had run off to. The kid was smarter than most but when it came to impulse control, he was more like a hyper 2 yr old. He had a tendency to over react.

**()()()**

Neal heard Diana saying that Peter was hurt and panicked. He felt a cold chill run down his spine and he wanted to go see how the agent was. If Peter got hurt... He wasn't sure what he would do. How could he tell Elizabeth?

He waited till everyone was distracted as he slipped out of the van unnoticed. He avoided the worse of the fray and made it inside of the warehouse the FBI was stalking. A dangerous arms dealer by the name of Alexandre Sergislev was in the building along with his fifty or more armed goons. If not for the fact he had a good ear for sounds, Neal wouldn't be here at all. If he could pull Peter out of harms way, he was willing to do so.

It took a few minutes before he found where Diana and Peter were and snuck up along the edge. Diana drew her weapon scaring the young man half to death and herself as she realized who it was.

"Dammit, Caffrey! You know Jones is looking for you?" She sounded pissed, putting her weapon down but at the ready. Neal was shaking as he got over having her point the gun at him, noticing her own flash of fear in her eyes at what could have happened.

"So why are you here?" She was straight to the point, ducked behind the small wall in the warehouse but Peter was no where to be seen. He felt that cold chill again, his mouth dry.

"Peter... I was worried when I heard he got shot." His voice was trembling ever so slightly, her expression softening a bit as she pointed around the corner.

"Over there. The relief crew showed up and carried him to a medic. He had a vest on but he's out of it. Got hit by a large round but he should be ok. Now... get back to the van before I shoot you for insubordination. You know Peter's going to be pissed you came out here." She was back to being professional but still smiling at him with a slight sympathetic glance. He nodded chagrined and snuck back around to where she pointed.

Neal found a group of agents one of them with a med kit. He was walking forward, unsure what he might find when he heard that voice.

"I'm ok. I just... ugh... yeah that hurts! You think these vests could have a bit more padding on them!" It was Peter's voice. He was ok! Neal felt better, trying to sneak back into the background but he saw someone sit up and then two brown eyes met his and he knew he was in trouble.

"What the... Neal? Why are you out here?" Peter's voice barked, his hand raised in the usual two fingered call sign he saw Hughes and the higher ups use. Neal was trapped so he slunk forward, his eyes averted as he approached the other agents and Peter. Peter looked confused at first but slowly his expression grew angry.

"Dammit, Neal! What are you doing here?" He was looking around for something or someone, Neal thought to take him back to the van. Peter was furious but trying to hide it.

"I thought... I heard the gun shots and Diana said you were down. I... wanted to make sure you were ok." His voice sounded tinny even to him but he was telling the truth. He saw Peter comb a hand through his hair tiredly as he nodded but still managed to look pissed off.

"Fine... but you picked a hell of a time to come out here. We're nearly surrounded by gun fire. Someone get him out of here and back to the van. And make sure he stays there! Handcuff him if you have to!" Peter was worried about him too but he had more pressing things like the operation to think about and so Neal nodded, his face flushed with shame as an agent in SWAT gear put a hand around his arm and started to lead him away. They hadn't walked far when the agent poked him and smiled.

"Well I see why Peter likes you. You're definitely not stupid although walking in here regardless was a hair-brained..." The agent didn't finish his sentence as he slumped forward onto Neal, something wet and warm gushing from his helmet. Neal tried to catch the man falling over into a crouch as they both slipped to the ground. The man was dead, his head bleeding where the bullet had pierce his helmet. Neal looked at his bloodied hands with wide blue eyes, a look of horror on his face. He tried to shake the agent awake only just aware of someone walking up behind him. Neal turned to see who but something hit him hard across the back of the head and slumped to the ground next to the dead agent.

Neal heard voices, strange voices at first till he realized they were speaking another language. He tried to figure out what but his mind was slowly fading away as the hit to his head knocked him out and he fell into darkness.

**(Earlier...)**

Peter and Diana were hunched down behind a huge slab of concrete, remains of some highway project they figured. It looked to be an old street divider but it didn't matter so long as it kept the worse of the bullets from Sergislev's men off of them. They were talking in low voices, looking over occasionally to get an idea how to get a shot in when someone came up behind them. Peter pushed Diana out of the way, both rounds hitting him hard in the chest. She managed to get a shot in before the shooter could continue, killing them. Peter fell to the ground, the world graying out as he lay there, his eyes staring upwards blankly.

_Peter? Peter get up! Agent down..._

He heard someone talking to him but he was so out of it, his chest hurting a bit too much. He was gasping for breath but heard very little other than his own heart beating in his ears.

He came too a few minutes later, several agents standing around him, one he recognized as a medic and another couple from some other departments.

"Am I really... all that interesting, guys?" He joked despite coughing a bit, his chest still hurting. The medic laughed, looking at him with a cockeyed grin.

"You took a couple of rounds but I think you'll be ok. Just a few bruised ribs far as I can see. Couldn't find anything broken. How are you feeling, Pete?" The man was still grinning a bit of salt and peppered hair showing underneath. Only Mandow could talk to him like that, Peter smiling at the man.

"I'm ok. I just... ugh... yeah that hurts! You think these vests could have a bit more padding on them!" Mandow had poked at his ribs a bit as he wrapped them with gauze, handing him back the vest bullet free.

"Better put this back on, boss. Diana was worried sick about you. You have some devoted team members." Mandow was grinning, watching Peter sit up and wrap the vest back around himself when his eyes spotted someone just beyond the group. Peter wasn't sure he was seeing who he thought till he saw the figure shrink back a bit.

What was Neal doing out in the line of fire? Dammit he thought as he yelled over to his partner and motioned him over like the higher ups. Neal looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Peter was definitely angry that the young man was out here without permission not to mention it was dangerous but when he asked him and found out why... he couldn't stay angry. He acted like he was to make sure he wouldn't do it again having an agent walk Neal back to the van. Last thing he needed was to find Neal's dead body when they left and wanted to be sure the con was safe regardless of why he came out.

Mandow allowed him to get up after a bit, telling him to take it easy even if they were in a gun fight. The man knew Peter wouldn't stay back if he was able to work. Peter got up and said he'd walk back to make sure Neal and the agent were at the van before he joined them again. He sent message to Diana that he was going back.

"_Uhm Peter... Caffrey isn't here yet._" Jones' voice came over the receiver as Peter finished speaking, the agent blinking as he took what his subordinate said.

"He's not? But I sent him back with Zucker." Peter felt a cold chill wash over him as he grabbed another agent and they headed back towards the van. Mandow followed them both and saw the grisley remains of Zucker on the ground, blood around his face as well as tracks of bloodied foot and hand prints. Peter recognized those thin prints as his none other than Neal's.

"What happened? Do we have any visuals on where Caffrey may have..." Peter stopped when he saw drag marks nearby and realized what happened. His heart skipped a few beats as he turned around to scout the area, panic threatening to take over.

"Someone shot Zucker and dragged Neal off... Mandow can you let Diana know we have a man missing... Jones get some people out here to look for Neal. I never should have brought him but he was the only person we had to get us into the building." Peter rubbed at his face tiredly. He hoped it was another agent that dragged Neal off but as the reports came in and they searched for him amid the fight with Sergislev's men, it was beginning to look more like someone in the mobster's crew had dragged him off.

"Diana, can you hear me?" Peter was talking through the two-way, the sound of gunshots from somewhere nearby evident. Finally he heard a few shots and then another voice.

"_Yeah, Boss... what's up? Did you find Caffrey yet?_" She sounded worried but distracted, people shouting near her.

"No but... I need you to get a message to Sergislev that I want to talk to him. Tell Hughes what's going on Jones and get back to me stat!"

**()()()**

Neal continued to hear voices around him even as he felt his body lifted up and dragged away, the sound of gunfire fading only a little bit. At some point someone pulled his arms back tightly and secured his wrists at the elbows with what he could only guess were zip ties. His head continued to throb and his mind replayed the event with the agent who had died beside him. A part of him cursed that he had been so stupid as to come looking for Peter but why wouldn't he? Peter was his friend. He just wanted to help but he wasn't thinking, running out into the middle of a gun fight. This wasn't like his jumping a turnstile or hotwiring an elevator to save Peter from poisoning at Kent's... this was serious and now he was caught. Did Peter even know he was here? Did anyone?

The voices kept talking, their accent strange yet not unfamiliar. He could almost pick up a word here or there as they spoke but it wasn't a language he was fluent at though he knew a little.

"... American... agent? No... not agent I think... too skinny... puny civilian. FBI let civilians in here?... think not... collateral... FBI will talk with hostage... Agent calling to talk." The voice was deep. Almost gutteral in it's tone as the Russian spoke. Russian... the man was from the Romanian section if he had to guess. He knew enough of the accents from his travels but his head still throbbed and so he tried not to think too hard letting what little bit of consciousness fade again.

Neal was out of it, dreaming strange things, mostly memories of a visit long ago to somewhere in the Ukraine. Alex had been with him at the time. The memory was vague, something about a castle when he felt his body started to wake up again and he could feel someone shaking him, a hand slapping at his face hard. Neal's head whipped hard to one side, hanging loosely between his shoulders. His eyes fluttered open slowly, blurry forms looking down at him as he gazed into cold emerald green eyes. He made to back away but several hands held him in place, his arms bound securely behind him, ankles also bound which gave me little leverage to scoot away. He gave a muffled reply to the blurry figure talking to him, something stuffed in his mouth. He felt it removed, the figure speaking to him again before it registered what they were saying.

"I'm not a mongrel..." Neal growled, suddenly throwing something back at the man in the original language. The man's face was first surprised then red with anger, his huge hands coming up to hit Neal when someone spoke up.

"Don't hurt him Iosif... you're the one who called him a name thinking he didn't know what you were saying. How many times have I told you NOT to underestimate these American's. Go check on the fighting. I hear someone wishes to speak with me."

The man's voice was rough but reminded him of Sean Connery from "_Hunt for Red October._" The man was older maybe just a slight bit more than Peter but he had a glint in his ice blue eyes that showed courage if not tenacity. He recognized the man immediately as his mind went back to the case files he'd read with Peter. This was Alexandre Sergislev, the mobster himself! Neal gulped a bit but put on the bravest front he could. He knew how these Russian mobsters operated from his little experience with them and information Mozz had told him.

"So you speak Russian? I'm surprised. You don't look like FBI and many of them don't speak my mother tongue. It is a local dialect. You must have visited my area to have learned it." The man was pacing before Neal, his eyes glancing at the young man sizing him up like a tiger about to charge an antelope. Neal kept his face firm and free of fear.

"I've been to many places in my travels and no I'm not FBI." Neal spoke firmly, quietly the man nodding with something like respect. They were doing a dance of sorts to see who would bow down first and so long as Neal stayed firm with his glance and voice, he was probably going to live. The man who tried to hit him before came back in and whispered something to the man.

"Ah... your FBI friends want to negotiate for you. The sheep that left the flock although being not FBI you are the black sheep?" He laughed a hearty but scary laugh, Neal nodding ever so slightly as he smiled but didn't join in the laughter.

"Watch him but do not hurt him... yet." Sergislev left as he was handed a phone and started to talk quietly. Neal tried to listen in to what was said but could only catch a word or two with the man's thick accent. After a moment the mobster handed the cell back to the huge henchman and smiled back at Neal.

"They say they want you back and will give me talks about the crimes I have supposedly committed if they can get you back. Are you really so valuable?" Sergislev drew closer, his long fingers wrapping around Neal's chin tightly and moving his head up to glance closer.

"You shutter your expression from me. You hide things very well and know my language. I suspect you are mobster like me or have worked with such men. That makes you a criminal or a spy. Which is it?"


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Peter got a call back from Hughes, the agent talking to his boss and giving him the details of the situation as he knew them. They talked for a few minutes before coming to the conclusion they would have to seek a lower conviction for Sergislev when they negotiated with the mobster but the murder of the agent was non-negotiable. Someone would have to pay for that. Hughes approved whatever they had to do to get Caffrey back, Peter relieved but feeling a bit stressed at having to bail the con's butt out of a dangerous situation again. He hung up the cell and pushed it back into his pocket with a frustrated sigh. If there had been a way to have Neal not be here, he would have done so but they had to have him nearby for the signal on the two-way. He was the only one they knew had good enough hearing to figure out how to open up the lock tone code they had recorded for the warehouse. They would have sent him back to the office if not home but they hadn't had the man power to spare anyone at the time so Caffrey had been left with Jones to monitor back in the van. Peter regretted not sending Neal home now.

"Boss... you ok?" Diana's voice broke through his thoughts as he turned and nodded vaguely but he knew he wasn't fooling her. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"He's a tough kid and smart. He's probably got the Russian's eating out of his hands. Remember the adoption plot? You guy's played pretty well with the Ruskies." Diana was trying to comfort him but it wasn't helping. Neal had been dragged away from the scene so no way to know how the young man was. Had he been shot as well? Peter combed a hand through his hair worriedly and sighed again.

"Yeah... he is pretty savvy I suppose. Ok... I need to talk to Sergislev. Do we have a line to him yet? Any idea where the anklet says Neal is, Jones?" Peter was talking to the air now into the two-way. He heard a little crackle of movement then a reply.

"_He appears to be right over you guys. It shows his anklet as near you but since you can't see him, I'm guessing it's the floor above. You said you were on the second? He could be up at the roof. Our spies said Sergislev had an office in this building but no body's found signs of it yet._" Jones spoke distractedly, the sound of papers or something shuffling near him.

"_Yeah... he has an office on the level just below the roof. Third floor._" Jones went quiet again after that, Peter nodding.

"Thanks Jones." Peter found a spot to sit, the shooting having stopped for the moment while they waited to talk to Sergislev. There was at least silence to think but he almost missed the noise as a distraction but the cease fire was welcomed. Diana walked over after a few minutes with a phone, a large Russian man not too far from her with his hands up to show he wasn't there to hurt anyone. Diana as well as the rest of the crew were watching him closely.

"He says his name is Yakov and his boss sent you this phone to talk so everything is secure and fair. Speed dial 5 will get you Sergislev. He's staying to be sure we don't try anything but he is unarmed." Diana had her gun holstered but was keeping an eye on the guy as were a couple of other agents. Yakov was quiet, standing with his arms crossed along the side as Peter took the phone, nodded at the man and dialed the number.

The phone rang a moment before a click indicated someone had picked up.

"_I assume I am speaking to the man in charge? Agent Burke was it? My name is Alexandre Sergislev. I believe we have someone in common we need to discuss._" The man's voice was thick with a dialect of Russian Peter hadn't heard before. Sergislev had a good grasp of English so the accent wasn't distracting, Peter's ear for speech good. He nodded at the phone.

"Yes, this is Agent Burke. You have one of my men. Is he well?" Peter was trying to play nice if only a little before he threw in the threat of punishment for Zucker's murder. The mobster was a few steps ahead.

"_I apologize for your man's death. It was an unfortunate... accident. Your civilian friend here, he's very intriguing. I am willing to make an exchange for better terms for the actions of myself and my men as well as a cease fire. What do you say, Agent Burke?_"

**()()()**

"I see. You remain quiet and strong like a rock. Perhaps I should try and break you like such?" Sergislev's voice was suddenly cold and menacing, Neal's eyes widening slightly as the man continued to hold his chin captive in his strong fingers. Then as suddenly the man's expression turned to a kind of grin, a low chuckle escaping his throat. Neal felt confusion but kept up his ruse of not being afraid till the man let go and smiled curiously at him.

"Untie him." The henchmen holding him blinked till Sergislev's eyes flashed at them brightly and Neal felt a suddenly flurry of movement as the men holding him were trying to cut him free and quickly. He noticed a slight satisfaction to Sergislev's expression as if he were happy they listened to him without question. Neal was confused when he noticed another expression on the mobster's face, sadness. It was only a brief glimmer in the man's cool blue eyes before it faded, his own shutters in place.

Neal felt the zip ties removed, a tingling in his arms as his blood started to flow again to limbs that had been numbed from an uncomfortable position. He rubbed at his wrists and arms gingerly, straightening his suit and clothes out of habit more than anything. He was feeling shaky, fearful but had to remain cool and collected to these men, especially Sergislev. The Russian was watching him as were the men so Neal continued to act as calm as he could, looking up when another man walked into the room. It was the man who had tried to hit him before. He glanced with surprise at Neal being free before his attention quickly returned to the older mobster and he spoke quietly. Neal could hear nothing of what they said, standing by the other henchmen who stood at the ready, eyes watching him attentively. Sergislev waved the man off after a moment, turning back towards Neal as he walked towards him. The mobster put an arm around Neal as if they were old friends as he started walking, Neal following without choice. The man held him securely but seemed to be actually holding him in a more friendly manner than expected.

"You remind me much of myself at your age. Wide-eyed and innocent I was... well maybe I was never truly innocent. I had run many cons by my early maturity. College age I guess you would say here. I learned on the streets to survive and to get what I needed to live. I made many powerful friends and enemies." Sergislev continued to hold Neal in the friendly almost brotherly hold, something Peter had done a few times but not for so long. Obviously the mobster was trying to keep him close for reasons other than friendship. Neal simply kept his eyes on the man, noting the two henchmen following on either side protectively with guns at their sides.

"I had a lovely girl.. Mirishka. I still miss her but that's what happens when you, how do you say '_live by the gun?_' An enemy... rival killed her when I was to run with her and leave the mob. We could have had a good life but he ruined me and I... he is no longer and this is what resulted." Sergislev made a wide sweeping gesture with his other hand around at the men and building.

"The essence of Alexandre Sergislev... an abandoned warehouse and fifty men. Blood and violence from not letting justice do what would be done. That is my legacy." He paused briefly as he gave Neal an almost fatherly glance.

"I know a little of your past, Mr. Caffrey. Do you not think it strange I am so kind?" Neal was looking into those icy blue orbs and seeing that glimmer of sadness again. The man was hurting from past losses. Neal felt a kind of pity for the man which his mind in Mozzie's voice told him was merely _Stockholm Syndrome_ creeping in from being afraid of what could happen. No it was more than that... the man was very much like him or what he could be in a few years. Who's to say he wouldn't stray back to what he was if he was released from his work with the FBI or something happened to Peter. Neal didn't want to think that way but it was a possibility. He saw a smiled on Sergislev's lips.

"I see those clockworks in your mind's eye. They are thinking about what I say and wondering how to stop such a thing from happening to you. Don't worry, Caffrey. With me you are safe. My word is my honor." The man spoke without hesitation which meant he was being honest, his other hand reaching across to shake with Neal. He took it and smiled back at the man wondering why he was doing it but when in Rome... besides, the man had a reason obviously for telling him all of this. If he waited long enough he could probably hear it. He wondered what they had negotiated for his release and if Peter was the one who was coming to get him. He tensed up thinking about the look on Peter's face when he had seen him in the warehouse. The anger and disappointment had been all too evident.

"What's wrong, Caffrey? You are tense from me?" The man seemed genuinely worried, Neal shaking his head. He could be honest back but it was still a strange peace he had with this man he only knew for the past hour or so.

"My friend, I wasn't supposed to be here. He was angry but..." He paused thinking about things, watching the mobster's blue eyes looking down at him like an uncle or such. It was odd how comfortable the man made him feel. Sergislev nodded.

"_I see. You were worried about him. He is like what, brother to you? I understand your tension. He was angry when you showed because he was worried for you. It is how family is. I have no more family even with these men._" He had lowered his tone, waving the two henchmen off although Neal only noticed now they had lagged behind several feet.

"_These men are only here because I pay them. They are not loyal as you and your friend are loyal to another. I miss... well, it is something that is expected when you join mob. Come along, Caffrey. Your friend will come for you soon and you will go home._" Sergislev was grinning now, bright white teeth showing through his thin lips. Neal found himself smiling back although it was bittersweet. Zucker was dead because of him and Peter... he was still going to be angry regardless of his being safe. He sighed inwardly, the mobster taking him over to the edge of the building as he let go and glanced over the landscape. Neal thought the man looked rather kingly, this rooftop a tower of his castle he was using to look out over his kingdom.

"I am tired of this life but it is only life I know. I cannot leave it unless merciful death takes me to her bosom. It is how you say an ironic circumstance." He laughed mirthlessly, blue eyes turning back to look at the younger man with an almost envious glance.

"You are lucky to have such a chance with your friend. It is as if you are reborn to have a new life outside that of which you were born. Take it while it is there. Such chances should not be taken lightly." Sergislev's glance looked over and beyond Neal, the young man turning to see Peter, Diana and another agent standing there. He felt a warmth at seeing his friend and although Peter's expression was grim, he caught a glimmer of relief in the agent's eyes.

"Sergislev... you said you would turn over the man who killed our agent in exchange for a lighter sentence and my man's freedom." Peter took a few steps forward, the two henchmen reaching for their guns but Sergislev stopped them.

"Let him come forward. Yes... I know who shot your man. He admitted it to me and again, I am sorry." He called out to one of the henchmen who blinked but nodded with little hesitation as they ran off past Diana and the other agent. Peter continued his approach till he was nearly half-way, his brown eyes on Neal.

"Are you ok?" He emphasized the last part and Neal nodded. Peter seemed to relax even more after that obviously wanting to come closer but knowing at the moment they had to hold back. There was a commotion at the stairs, everyone turning to hear what it was. Diana and the other agent turned to face the angry voice that was carrying towards them. She looked ready to grab her gun as a man pushed passed the henchman who came and stormed up onto the rooftops. His eyes were green as emeralds as Neal recognized the man as the one who had originally called him a name in Russian. He was yelling loudly, his accent barely understandable in his anger.

(_You sell out your own people to these mongrels for what? You are not the leader I thought you were!_)

The man was angry, his arms waving around him like so many buzzing bees as he continued to rant and curse. Diana looked confused as did the agent and Peter. Neal was just getting enough to know this was not a good sign. The man wasn;t stable. He felt Sergislev wrap a hand around his arm and pull him back towards him and the roof's edge slowly. Peter seemed to notice the movement but saw the mobster was showing a solid front.

(_Iosif... you killed a man who was not in our fight. I told you not to act rashly but you did not listen. Now you will be punished as I should have done long ago. No more chances._)

Neal listened to the conversation, as much as he could translate in his head and turned his eyes to Peter worriedly. The agent picked up on the emotion realizing something was going down. He turned and gave a look at Diana who picked up on the signal and nodded imperceptibly.

"I am tired of your weakness! I should have killed him when I could..." Iosif pulled out a gun and pointed it at Neal before anyone could react. There were two quick reports.

Neal saw the flash from the barrel, smoke rising up from the dark metal of the pistol. He felt the hand hold from Sergislev tighten as he was pulled around behind the man. He saw the mobster twitch but his face remained firm, a red stain evident as a small spot appeared on his chest and started to fill out on his tan shirt. Neal felt shock, unsure what to do but wanting to help this man who had saved him. He saw those blue eyes turn to him and smile softly. The man said something to him in a hoarse whisper that he barely caught before stumbling back over the edge and starting to fall. Neal was too shocked to react, still trying to find sanity in the situation.

Peter was yelling something, another shot fired and Neal turned to see Iosif had fallen, Diana or someone having shot him. The two henchmen stayed their ground but dropped their weapons when they saw what happened to their boss, too shocked to react to their associate's obvious treachery. Diana and the other agent quickly cuffed them, Peter running towards Neal as if in slow motion. He couldn't understand why the agent looked so frantic till he felt the pull.

Neal turned to see that Sergislev had not let go when he was shot, his hand still firmly griping Neal's arm. He tried to pull away but the man's hold was tight, Neal being pulled over with the shot mobster towards the ground three stories below. He saw Peter try to reach out towards him but it was too late as he felt nothing but air beneath him and sailed downwards, Peter's anguished expression floating above him from the rooftop.

**()()()**

Peter ran forward hoping to catch Neal when he saw that the mobster was falling, his hand still holding onto the young man's tightly. He was panicking as he thought what was about to happen, flying as fast as he could towards his friend and partner. He saw the shocked look as Neal turned to see what was happening but it was too late. Neal went flying over the side just as Peter managed to get close, their fingers missing by inches.

He looked over the edge at the young man sailing into the void towards the ground three stories below. He heard a sickening crunch as Neal landed on top of Sergislev's already still form, the mobster having broken his fall as they hit the brush below. Peter was already looking for a way down seeing a rickety fire escape and quickly heading towards it. Someone touched his shoulder and he shrugged it off but they grasped at him again.

"Peter! Be careful..." Diana's voice was soft but understanding as he headed down the creaking metal staircase towards the ground below and the scene he wanted to avoid. It seemed to take forever but he finally made it down and slid down the last ladder before he was able to kneel by his friend and check him.

"Neal... Neal wake up!" He was gently slapping the young man's face, listless blue eyes staring back up at him without moving. He felt Neal's neck and found a weak pulse after a moment. The con was alive by some miracle but his arm was still held tightly, almost protectively by the mobster beneath him. Peter brushed a hair from the young man's face, blue eyes slowly following his hand till they met with his and then closed. Peter felt for a pulse again and breath finding Neal was still alive.

"MAN DOWN! I NEED A MEDIC!" He was screaming into the two-way, his voice just short of panicked as he checked Sergislev and found that the mobster was also alive by some odd miracle. He gently removed the hand from Neal's arm and slowly felt the tension release from the mobster's body, his own blue eyes opening a moment and looking at the agent.

"_Thank you... I don't know why you did it but... Thank you._" Peter spoke softly just for him, the mobster blinking at him a moment before those eyes closed. Peter checked the man's vitals again finding he was also still alive. He sighed in relief holding up his hands as two of Sergislev's men showed up. They looked at him and the scene then put their guns down and held up their own hands as they approached and made a motion as if they were going to help. Apparently they had been aware of the situation too, Peter nodding as he gently moved Neal aside and saw two of his men including Mandow show up to help. It was kind of like a weird sort of Glasnost while everyone worked to get both Neal and the mobster to the waiting ambulances as they arrived.

Diana came up with the two henchmen from before having uncuffed them due to the ceasefire. They were looking confused at the situation, two other agents carrying the dead Iosif under a sheet towards a waiting coroner's truck. Peter followed Neal's stretcher his hand holding his partner's tightly. Diana took his car keys to take his car back for him, Peter going in the ambulance with Neal.

"Hang on Neal. I'm here."

The young man was rigged up on a back board, neck and head in supports just in case but so far they couldn't see that anything was obviously broken. The bushes below and Sergislev had broken his fall for the most part but that couldn't be said for the Russian. He had multiple injuries from having taken the brunt of the fall in addition to his being shot in the chest. Peter didn't think he would ever feel for a mobster but the man had protected Neal for some reason and that was enough for him to hope that maybe somehow the man would live. Perhaps that wasn't the best wish but if only for what he had done for Neal, it was worth thinking.

"Neal?" He thought he felt a slight squeeze on his hand, noticing a slight movement as the younger man's thin fingers wrapped gingerly around his own.

"I'm right here. You're going to be ok. Just stay with me." He thought he caught a slight head nod despite all the supports keeping Neal still. Peter sighed as he continued to hold his partner's hand and wait for them to reach the hospital.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

Neal felt the impact as he hit the ground below but it was blunted by Sergislev's body and the brush at the foot of the building. He was only vaguely aware that Peter was still looking down at him from above as his vision grayed out. He knew he was at least semi-conscious if not alive, the sound of his pulse beating in his ears, his breath shallow as he felt the slow rise and fall of his own chest. His arm where Sergislev held him still ached from being pulled nearly from its socket as he had fallen with the man. Other than that, he was comfortably numb as if nothing had happened and he was merely laying down on the ground out of choice.

It was a few minutes later or was it days... he wasn't sure as he became aware of someone touching him on the shoulder gently. Someone was speaking to him, a sense of worry in their voice but he was sleepy, his mind wandering from the grayness as his eyes focused again and his sight returned.

_Peter?_

Neal saw the agent hovering over him, Peter's hand brushing gently at his forehead before the grayness overwhelmed him and his eyes closed swallowing the young man in darkness.

_Peter..._

The thought evaporated into the gloom as Neal found himself trapped in unconsciousness. The darkness remained till he thought consciousness might be his. He found himself waking slowly, his body tired but eyes opening to find a stark white ceiling bathed in shadow above him. Neal move his eyes around to see that he was in an unfamiliar room, laying in an unfamiliar bed, the nightstand holding a very utilitarian looking lamp and clock, the latter reading 6 AM. Neal blinked at the time as well as the scenery as he heard a soft moan beside him. He turned to see someone in the bed beside him, a woman. She had her back to him, long dark hair falling over her bare shoulders as she slept wrapped in the sheet as he was. He noticed his own bare chest, turning to nudge her gently.

_Kate?_

Neal watched as the figure roused slowly, turning towards him and smiled.

(_**"Alexandre... it's too early to be awake."**_) She spoke softly, a hint of brown glittering in the dim light. Neal knew this was wrong but he moved closer and they kissed, her lips soft, a hint of jasmine and something he wasn't familiar with in her hair and skin.

(_**"I have business and then... we can go. I promise. This ends today."**_) He heard a voice speaking but it wasn't his. The voice was deeper, the accent foreign. He watched her glance worriedly at him in the darkness, nestling against his shoulder. She was warm and soft like Kate had been. Neal felt tears forming in his eyes as he thought about her, the dream continuing.

(_**"Aren't you afraid? They will look for us, Alexandre..."**_) Her voice held fear in it as she spoke but he quieted her with another kiss.

(_**"It has to be done or we will never be free. Trust me Mirishka."**_) He heard the other man speaking through him as the dream faded away to darkness. Neal fought to see more of the story but he was disappearing into the gloom, his mind easing into a relaxed state.

_Neal..._

_Neal, honey wake up..._

Someone was talking to him, a woman he thought. Neal felt a hand gently caressing his forehead, brushing the hair from his face. It felt good, bringing back memories from his childhood. His mother used to do the same thing when he was home sick or feeling poorly. Neal moved his head slightly, trying best to wake up and see who was there.

_I think he's waking up..._

_Neal... _

He felt his body begin to wake up, a gasp of breath escaping his lips as his body moved ever so slightly, chest rising and falling... eyes fluttering softly. Neal could hear more sounds now. Someone was moving near him, the hand still caressing his hair and forehead. He felt his lips curve into a smile as he slowly opened his eyes and stared upwards. Everything was blurry at first, the room too bright as he closed his eyes again.

_Neal honey, let me turn off the lamp. Peter close the curtains!_

He knew this voice, his mind reaching out to remember as the room seemed to fall into further darkness. She was still gently brushing at his hair, his eyes opening once again to a more diminutive light. A shadowy form hovered over him gently, soft words he could just make out.

"Hey Neal... How are you feeling?" Elizabeth Burke was looking down at him, dark hair framing her face in further shadow. He glanced up at her confusedly, trying to remember where and why. This room was unfamiliar but by the bland layout it had to be a hospital room he guessed. He moved his lips, a quiet intake of breath escaping but no sound.

"Are you thirsty? Want me to get you some water? _Peter, can you pass me that glass?_" El turned to another shadowy figure who walked over with a cup and handed it to her as they stood behind. Neal peered closely at the figure behind El.

"Pe... et..." Neal coughed out, his chest spasming as his body shook with coughing. El helped to calm him, fluffing his pillows and raising the bed to make him more comfortable. Finally his body went still, his face slightly flush from the fit.

"Here, drink this Neal. Slowly now..." El held the cup gently to his lips as he carefully sipped from the cup, cool liquid spilling down his throat. He coughed a bit but soon his throat felt less dry and the coughing spasms stopped. Neal lifted tried to lift his right arm but it was in a sling he suddenly noticed, instead lifting his left to let El know he was done with the water. She nodded and smiled in the dimly lit room.

"How... long have I... been here?" Neal heard his voice as if it were someone elses, his tone raspy and tired sounding. He shifted his weight and felt a few aches and pains in his back and body in general. A hand gently gripped his good shoulder and he turned to see Peter was at his left now.

"Hey buddy. Since when do you wear bullet proof vests? Paramedics didn't notice till they brought you in that that's what was under your clothes. I guess I was too panicked to notice at the time but they say it saved you a lot of aches and pains. Not just good for bullets apparently. They brought you in about two days ago." Peter was smiling but it was a relieved smile if nothing else. Neal smiled back tiredly, nodding his head.

"Well when I... heard you were... shot, I... I grabbed one. I knew it was stupid... to go... but I knew wearing it... would be smart." He was somewhat out of breath as he spoke slowly, El on his right gently caressing his hair which was plastered to his head as he started to break out in a sweat. She looked a bit more worried.

"Let me call the nurse. They need to know you're awake." She reached down at the side of the bed and pushed the call button. Neal watched her a moment before turning his attention back to Peter.

"Sergi...slev... is he ok?" Neal wasn't sure why but he had to ask about the mobster. The man had practically given his life for him on so little acquaintance and the dream... it was strange that he would dream he was the mobster. Perhaps he was feverish after all but he didn't feel like it. Everyone turned as the door opened bringing more light to the room. Neal squinted, turning his head as the nurse looked around in the gloom at the three figures.

"A little dark in here. What seems to be the problem?" She was reaching for the bedside lamp when Peter stopped her.

"I'm sorry but his eyes were bothering him when he woke up so we made the room darker. I'm not sure he's ready for anything bright yet." Peter's tone was protective but the nurse shook her head.

"I apologize but I have to see him clearly when I do the examination. Can you cover your eyes a moment?" She was talking from Peter to Neal now, the younger man nodding as he placed his good hand over his eyes and shut them. He could sense as well as hear the light go on, a hand touching his left one gently as it took his wrist in theirs and gently felt for a pulse. He slowly opened his eyes and found the light was a little better than before. Neal could now see Peter and El far more clearly than he had in the dim light. Both looked tired which made Neal believe they may have been here all of the two days he had been out of it.

"Mr. Caffrey, please sit up. I need to listen to your chest." The nurse spoke kindly but professionally, a stethoscope around her neck. Neal nodded as El helped him sit up and the nurse opened up his hospital robe enough to poked the stethoscope inside to listen. She had him breath in and out a few times before having him lean forward a bit to listen to his back.

"I hear some congestion but it's nothing serious. I'll bring you some medicine for that. You're looking much better than when you came in. You should be able to leave in another day or so." She pulled out a small penlight and checked his eyes a moment, having him follow the light till she had finished checking his reflexes.

"You had a slight concussion when you came in but you seem over it now. The doctor may want to do a few more tests but again, I think you'll be well enough to leave soon." She smiled at all of them, putting the light and stethoscope away.

"If you're hungry, I can bring you some food." She waited for him to respond, Neal nodding vaguely as he felt and heard a small rumble in his stomach at the mention of food. Peter's stomach replied in kind making the nurse and El smile.

"I guess we're a bit hungry as well. I'll go get you something, Peter." She hugged her husband tightly, gave Neal a quick squeeze and left with the nurse. The two men were in the dimly lit room alone, Neal shifting some as he tried to get comfortable. He coughed lightly, a wet congested sound in his throat. Peter looked at his partner worriedly.

"You sure you're ok? I can call the nurse back." Peter handed Neal the glass of water again. Neal shook his head and took a few sips.

"I'm good. I... you didn't answer my question." His blue eyes glanced up at the agent curiously, Peter nodding as he scratched at his chin thoughtfully.

"Sergislev... he's in ICU still. Coma. The shot barely missed his heart but hit a lung. He had quite a few internal injuries from the fall that required further surgeries and care. We have some guards on him just in case there's any backlash from what happened. He took a big risk saving your life. I still don't understand why but I'm grateful he did it." Peter sounded as confused about the whole situation as Neal did, standing up after a moment to pace.

"Peter..." Neal's voice was quiet in the dim light of the hospital room, the agent turning to face him. Neal sat up a bit straighter as he looked at his friend.

"Sergislev wasn't a bad person. I mean... he was as much a victim as those he hurt. I'm sure nobody cares why someone does something that hurts others but he was a wounded soul. He said... " Neal tried not to get emotional when he thought about the parallels between himself and the mobster. Peter was suddenly beside him, hand on his shoulder.

"He said I was like him. He knew who I was and he... his love had been murdered like Kate was." Neal's voice cracked when he spoke, the hand on his shoulder squeezing gently.

"He understood you then. I wish I could say the same but you keep so much of your life from me. I guess I'm about as far removed from whatever past you both shared that I wouldn't understand everything you've gone through. I try to work with what I know." Peter's voice sounded tired but he was obviously concerned with Neal regardless of his past. It eased his conscience a bit to know Peter was trying to understand him.

"Peter... he told me... " Neal wondered if he should tell him what Sergislev had said about his second chance. The words choked in his throat as he grabbed up the water glass again and took a few more sips. Luckily or unluckily the nurse and El came back right around then so the words were left unspoken.

"Peter, I brought you some food if you want to sit over here by the window." El pulled Peter from Neal's side, the agent looking reluctant but following his wife to the sofa. Neal watched his friends before the nurse distracted him with his own meager meal. He glanced down at he oatmeal and jello on the tray. The nurse placed a spoon on the tray and poured him some more water.

"This will get better. You haven't eaten anything solid in almost 2 days so it takes time to get to more palatable stuff." She smiled apologetically at him, Neal just nodding as he grabbed up the spoon with his left hand and started to dig in.

**()()()**

Two days went by more quickly than Neal would have thought. He was bored in the hospital but the day after he'd waken up the nurse had been good to her word and allowed El and Peter to sneak in some food for him. Neal had been glad to eat something other than oatmeal, fiber rich cereal and jello, El's patented chicken salad sandwiches making his taste buds hum with happiness. Their visits made the time seem less excruciating, the final day more than exciting as Neal eased himself into a pair of comfortable black jeans and white tee courtesy of June. His arm was still in a sling but he was able to manipulate it enough to get it in and out for changing. The nurse brought a wheelchair for his much anticipated exodus from the hospital. Peter went to take care of the paperwork while El stayed with him in the hallway.

"You're awfully quiet, Neal. Something bothering you?" She was brushing at his hair gently as he glanced back down the hallway. He was thinking of Sergislev. He wanted to go visit the man but wasn't sure Peter would let him. He was about to answer when Peter walked up, putting a hand on the back of the wheelchair.

"Are you ready?" Peter was glancing down at him curiously, Neal nodding without a word.

"Here we go." Peter took over pushing the young man around, turning the corner of the hall and stopping at the elevator. El was looking at Peter curiously, her face confused.

"_I thought we were parked on this level, honey._" She spoke quietly but Peter shook his head.

"_I moved the car._" He spoke quietly but quickly, his eyes betraying something he wasn't saying. Neal didn't think much of it as he waited to get to the car and out of this chair. The elevator made a dinging sound just before the doors opened and they moved inside. Peter pushed the 3rd floor as the door shut and the car moved quietly upwards. El was looking at Peter, her face near his ear whispering.

"_Honey, where are we going? I know you didn't park up here..._" She looked surprised when he just gave her a certain look. She realized he had something going on, his eyes moving down to Neal and then back again and she nodded without another word. The elevator finally paused and the doors opened as the bell rang again. Peter smoothly rolled Neal out into the new corridor, El following them. They took the right side and made their way down the hallway till Neal noticed a familiar face sitting outside a door reading a newspaper.

"What is Jones doing here?" Neal looked confused as he sat up a bit straighter in the seat and tried to figure out what was going on. Jones heard them and looked up as they came closer, standing and smiling.

"Hey Peter... Neal... El." Jones moved over to Peter and spoke just quiet enough Neal heard what was said.

"_He's not doing so well but they said one person at a time..._" Jones' glance went down to Neal briefly then back up to Peter and El. Neal started to stand up, El helping him out of the chair. He turned to Peter for an answer.

"Why are we here, Peter?" Neal was confused if nothing else but the agent nodded at him, his hand on his shoulder.

"Sergislev. You said you wanted to see him. He's just inside there. I'm sorry for the deception but we had to keep it quiet under the circumstances. We don't know who's watching." Peter's face was chagrined at having deceived the young man if only for a visit with the mobster. Neal blinked and nodded, walking forward slowly. The ICU room door slid open and he limped inside to the figure surrounded by tubes and machines. The beeping and low hiss of the respirator wall the indictation that told him the man was alive. Neal pulled up the chair near the bed and sat down carefully unsure why he was there or what to say. The mobster looked like he was sleeping, his face calm looking.

"I don't know why I'm here but I wanted to thank you for what you did... and what you said. I do want that second chance if I can get it. I just... I can't seem to get myself to admit it, especially to Peter." He ran a hand through his hair wondering why he was here. The guy had kidnapped him and was one of the most dangerous mobsters from Russia and yet, he had saved him and treated him kindly. He gingerly took the mobster's hand in his own, those large hands calloused with long artistic fingers. He thought he felt a gentle squeeze and then something like a tingling sensation up his arm.

_You are lucky to have such a chance with your friend. It is as if you are reborn to have a new life outside that of which you were born. Take it while it is there. Such chances should not be taken lightly._

Neal blinked, hearing Sergislev talking to him as he had on the rooftop before. He was hearing those words he had said about the chance Peter offered him. The chance he couldn't find to discuss with his friend. He didn't want to promise anything to Peter he couldn't actually keep. He had already disappointed Peter too many times to want to put anything else out there that would hurt their friendship any further.

_He is family. He will understand if you aren't perfect. You have to be honest, Caffrey. Tell him before it's too late._

Neal nodded to the voice in his head, looking down when the mobster's hand went limp in his again. The machines continued to beep normally, the respirator hissing quietly. He stood up and nodded to the man with a slight bow of his head before he limped back out into the hallway.

Peter looked up from his conversation with Jones, El sitting beside both men as they all noticed Neal's quiet exit from ICU. Peter walked over and put an arm around Neal making him think of the mobster for some reason.

"You ok?" He whispered.

Neal nodded with a soft smile, easing himself into the wheelchair again as he leaned back and closed his eyes. He felt tired suddenly, opening his eyes when he felt the chair moved and turned.

"Thanks Jones. I'll see you at work." Peter spoke quietly just before he and El pushed the chair and Neal down the corridor towards the elevators.

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _This was a quieter chapter. It will get more exciting. Thanks everyone for all the nice comments. I read all of them. I'm just not good at answering everyone back. Please keep them coming._


	4. Chapter 4

(Chapter 4)

Neal went back home to June's, his landlady glad to see him back in one piece after his accident. She had been worried silly after Peter and El had let her know what had happened. June hovered over him like an old mother hen with chicks, El doing the same as they coddled him and got him as comfortable as could be. He liked the attention to some extent, glad he had friends to worry about him. He saw Peter giving him a curious look and knew it meant they were going to have a talk at some point in length about how stupid had had been to enter a war zone. At least there would be a bit of time to buffer the blow while he healed up and Peter's anger hopefully went from high to simmer to not so bad. He could only hope.

Once everyone was sure he was comfortable and they'd finished visiting, Neal was left alone in his room. The silence seemed almost unbearable after all the fuss made over him the past few days. He usually liked being alone but having grown comfortable with June, El and Peter around he was beginning to find the silences uncomfortable at best. He leaned back in bed and closed his eyes, his body falling almost immediately into a light sleep.

_He was dreaming as soon as his eyes closed._

Neal found himself walking the streets of a run down city block along sooty buildings long neglected and in need of repair. The skies were grayish and dark and a chill in the air made him pull his jacket closer to his body. That's when he noticed the slush on the sidewalks and streets. It must be Winter he thought to himself as he continued his trek down the unfamiliar street and tried to think where he was going. He felt happy, a sense of relief in him but he wasn't sure why he felt that way. Irregardless, he was whistling a tune he had heard once, something called "_Midnight in Moscow_" but he knew it had another name he just couldn't think of at the moment.

A few children ran by playing with a ball. They wore warm clothes and spoke in another language although he could pick up more or less what they were saying. He paused to watch them before entering a nearby apartment building, pushing the door open. The interior was dimly lit and dirty looking, the walls yellowing with age. He made his way up a staircase to the third floor and turned to the right. He stopped at the door on the end, pulling out his key and suddenly noticing that the door was slightly ajar. He pushed the key back into his pocket and pulled out something cold and metallic. A gun.

Neal took a minute, quietly pushed the door open as he ducked behind the wall. Nothing happened but he could smell something. He sniffed at the air curiously as he walked in, gun at the ready. Why did he have a gun? He was confused as he continued to walk into the apartment slowly but surely, checking out every corner till he got to the bedroom. It was the room from his previous dream. He recognized it immediately. A figure dressed in a warm brown sweater and jeans lay on the bed with their back towards him. Her long hair had been pulled up into braids.

(_"Mirishka, wake up. It's time to go."_) He nudged her gently as he sat on the edge of the bed, his head feeling a bit hazy as the smell got to him. It was not an obvious scent but he had always had a very sensitive nose. He blinked a few times to clear his vision as it began to swim, his hand nudging her again.

(_"Mirishka..."_) His hand had reached to caress her face and came back with something wet and sticky. He looked down at his hand to see something red there. Neal's eyes widened as he realized what it was and turned the young woman towards him. He felt a pain in his chest, a heart wrenching ache as he saw that she was dead.

(_"Mirish...ka..."_) He muttered as he hugged her to himself. She had been shot, a very deliberate and quick death from someone who knew what they were doing. She would not have lived long especially now that he was aware of the scent in the air. It was gas. He started to stand but felt dizzy, too weak to push himself to his feet. He collapsed on the bed beside her, starting to feel his eyes shut when someone nudged him, his head turning languidly towards the figure.

(_"Alexandre... wake up! Hey... hurry before they come back for you!"_) He looked at the man, a blondish figure who was blurring in and out of sight as he tried to focus but couldn't. The man shook him again, putting an arm around his waist and lifting him up.

(_"Come on Alexi... we have to go now."_) He felt the man half carry, half drag him as his eyes turned back to the dead figure on the bed and then everything went black.

Neal was struggling in his sleep, his arm in the sling moving despite the pain. His eyes fluttered, lips moving without speaking. After a moment his eyes popped open and he sat up with a start.

A thin sheen of sweat covered his face and body, Neal pushing himself to a sitting position as he moved to get out of bed. He looked at the clock to see at least three hours had passed since he had come home. He made his way to the bathroom and washed his face with cool water, staring at himself in the mirror.

He was Neal Caffrey, conman and FBI consultant. That's who he was but why was he dreaming of Alexandre Sergislev's past? He couldn't have come up with this much of a story in the short acquaintanceship. The dreams didn't make sense to him at least as to why. He had been in Eastern Europe a few times but not enough to come up with a dream like this. He remembered the tingle he felt touching the mobster's hand in the hospital but shook off the thought. He wasn't Mozzie. He didn't believe in all that mumbo-jumbo like reincarnation and such. He was just under stress still from the situation. That had to be the answer and he was imaginative. He'd always been a bit high strung about certain things.

Neal finished washing his face, going back to his room and turning on the radio. A Frank Sinatra song was just finishing up as the announcer made a few quick comments.

"_And now a fun song from the land of Glasnost._" The music began and Neal paused mid-step turning around to look at the radio curiously. How? It was the song he had been whistling in his dream. He blinked moving over to turn the radio up and listen to it more carefully. When the song ended he walked over to where his cell phone sat on the nightstand and dialed a number.

"_June said you had gotten out today. How are you feeling?_" Mozzie got right to the point which was interesting even for him. Neal smiled ever so slightly.

"I need your opinion on something. How soon can you come over?" Neal was thinking about the dream and the odd coincidence of the song on the radio. What were the chances? Or maybe he was just seeing things that weren't there. It was still too soon after everything to be completely clear headed.

"_Soon, why? What's up?_" Mozzie sounded interested but he didn't want to say over the phone so he just shrugged.

"Maybe nothing. Just come over." Neal heard Mozzie say something and the call ended. He placed the phone back on the nightstand, pacing the room as he thought about the weird coincidences and talked himself after a while into thinking that's all it was. What else would it be? He sighed, his hand combing through his hair as he tried to believe he was just seeing things. He must have been pacing a while cause he heard a soft knock on the door and walked over to open the door. Mozzie stood there.

"Hey Mozz. Come on in." Neal moved aside as his friend shuffled inside and glanced at him curiously. They moved to the sofa and sat down.

"You look worried about something. If all I heard about what happened is true, you're lucky to be alive! You came face to face with Sergislev! I'm impressed!" Mozz had paled at the name as he said it, glancing around as if he thought the mobster or his men were hiding around the corner waiting to pop out at the very mention of the man's name. Neal nodded slightly, his expression still looking somewhat worried.

"Yeah... lucky. Uhm... about Sergislev. He saved my life." Neal said it quietly but Mozz picked up on the hesitation in Neal's tone.

"Saved... your life. He's a cold blooded killer from what I heard and you're saying he '_saved_' your life. Mobsters like him don't save anyone unless they expect you to do something for them. He must have you set up as a stooge. I can hide you if you need a place..." His voice trailed off as Neal stood and paced a bit.

"No he literally saved my life. He's in ICU barely alive. He took a bullet for me, Mozz. I don't know why but he did. He wasn't what I expected." Neal ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back and closed his eyes a moment. He could hear Mozzie breathing beside him, moving around restlessly in his seat.

"So he didn't do it for blackmail or revenge... and he's actually in the hospital. I don't get it. From all I know about him, why would he... no offense, save '_you_,' Neal? It doesn't make much sense. People like him don't save people like you unless they're getting something out of it." Mozz had a point but Neal knew there was more to it than that. He thought about the dreams and wondered if he was being wise in telling anyone, even Mozz, about them. He took a deep breath, opened up his eyes and let it out.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Mozz? People being haunted by the dead?" Neal knew Sergislev was technically alive but what else could he say the dreams were but ghostly visitations to make him see something he didn't yet understand. It was all he could think of beyond stress and the trying to understand the man better, neither of which explained the dreams to any manner he could logically think of. Mozzie paled a bit and nodded.

"Yeah, why? I mean I've never seen one but I knew a guy who had a ghost following him around for a while. Someone he had wronged. He had to do the right thing then they went away." He paused looking at Neal a moment before continuing.

"You don't believe in that stuff. Neal, what's bothering you?" Mozzie was looking around the room now as if he thought something was stalking them. Neal sighed, putting into words what it was he wanted to say.

"Sergislev... I think he's haunting me. I... keep having dreams I'm him when he was my age. I see what he saw and all I really know is what you had told me and the little bit he told me while I was with him. Still... these dreams are too detailed to be just something I came up with from the few facts I have. I was... he was whistling a song in one dream and when I woke up, that song was on the radio a few minutes later." He saw Mozzie sit up straight and look about as nervous as can be, his hands making some odd gestures he knew to be Buddhist sacraments.

"That is weird, Neal. Maybe when whatever happened to you both occurred you sort of shared some part of yourselves. He might be in the hospital but some part of him is inside of you because you shared a traumatic event. I've heard talk of such things." His voice was quiet, the gestures continuing as he mumbled softly some unintelligible words with the movements.

"Perhaps I can bring some incense and try an exorcism or something. I have friends who know about such things." Mozz was getting excited about the prospect but Neal shook his head.

"I just want to know what I should do. Or maybe I'm just going nuts. I'm still a bit shell shocked. Forget I mentioned it." Neal stood and started to pace nervously, trying to figure out how to change the subject. Mozzie was here and he'd already said what he had to but now he regretted it. The idea of what he had said was sounding more and more crazy to himself the more he thought about it. He felt a hand on his arm and stopped moving, Mozz standing beside him.

"It's ok, Neal. The Buddhists believe in such things as people communicating from beyond. If that's what's happening, maybe he needs someone to help him cross over." Mozzie sounded so serious for a moment before he shook his head and gave out a loud sigh.

"Now I sound like that kook from that cable show. The one who claims he can talk to the dead. Ugh... forget what I said. Any mobster who's trying to talk to you from beyond and isn't telling you where their stash is isn't your friend. Or maybe it is stress. It's only been a few days since the incident. I've had some strangely lucid dreams after some jobs and close calls." Mozzie walked over to the kitchenette and pulled a bottle from the wine rack.

"Let's discuss this over a good red. What do you say?" He was smiling, his hands already popping the cork and grabbing up two glasses. Neal nodded tiredly, joining him over at the small table by the kitchen.

"Perhaps Sergi just wants you to enjoy what you have like this wine."

**()()()**

A week passed and Neal had no more dreams about the Russian mobster or his past. Perhaps it had been stress from what had happened. He heard from Peter that the mobster was still in ICU, his condition unchanged. They weren't sure when the man would wake up but his body had been badly injured and there was a chance he wouldn't wake up again. Neal sighed when he heard the news, unsure if he was truly sorry for the man. He had saved his life but for what purpose? Mozzie was right, people like Sergislev don't save you unless they want something and maybe the mobster had intended to ask a favor.

Neal pushed the thought out of his mind as he wandering down the street within his radius. He decided to take advantage of feeling better and go out to the park. The weather was beautiful for a Friday. He was crossing the street towards the park when a car braked in front of him. Neal jumped back but it wasn't fast enough as two men popped out with guns and grabbed him, pulling him into the back of the vehicle as it quickly sped off again. He felt the barrel of the pistol pressed against his temple, his arms pulled back tightly behind him as he struggled to free himself. He stopped when he heard the gun cock.

"It's a shame about Sergislev. He was a great leader but all good leaders must fall sometime. Perhaps you can let us know where he is staying? I heard he is ailing and some friends would wish to bid him fare... I mean get well greetings." The man speaking sat before Neal, sparkling amber eyes like polished tiger eye glittering in the dimly lit vehicle. His skin was pale to match hair that could only described as raven black. He had soft features except for a square chin that jutted out angrily. From the way he spoke and his clothes Neal could only assume he was from a rival gang in the Russian mob. It wasn't unusual for them to attack someone when they were down. He glared at the man without speaking.

"Solid as a rock and putting up a great front. The _wall_ was taken down in fewer days than it will take my men to beat the information from you. Or maybe we should ask your Agent friend? Maybe his presence would loosen your tongue..." The man made a motion and Neal saw a phone pushed in front of him. There was a camera feed showing a limp figure bound and unconscious somewhere. The camera man moved the view so that the face of the figure could be seen. Neal's eyes widened just as he felt something hard hit him on the back of the head, his body slumping immediately as he slipped into unconsciousness.

**(Two hours before...)**

Peter stepped out of the FBI building making his way around the corner towards the Deli just down the block. He was just pulling out his phone to call Neal when he nearly bumped into a well dressed young man with dark hair. He excused himself trying to pass but the man didn't move, someone pushing a gun into his back as he stiffened, the first man smiling.

"Just act normal, Agent Burke and nobody gets hurt." The man continued to smile as they herded him towards a waiting car. Peter made a quick glance around but didn't get far as a rag was pressed against his face, the men pushing him into the car.

"Don't struggle, Agent Burke. Just relax." Peter felt his arms pulled behind him as he fought to breath but something sickly sweet filled his nostrils as he started to feel lightheaded, eyes drooping, body slumping. He heard the men speaking around him suddenly but not in English. He couldn't think what it was they were saying or how as he passed out.


	5. Chapter 5

**(Chapter 5)**

_Neal was dreaming again. Someone shaking him gently as they tried to rouse him._

(_"Alexi... Alexi! Wake up!"_) The voice was only vaguely familiar, his body tired still from before. He heard himself gasp for breath, coughing as someone put a gentle hand on his back and helped him to breath.

(_"Breath, Alexi... Breath..."_) Neal was reminded of Peter suddenly, opening his eyes and hoping to see him there. His vision focused on the figure of a man not much older than himself. The man had sandy blond hair, muddy brown eyes and lightly tanned skinned. He seemed to stick out in this gray world he woke up in. He felt his hand move up to touch the man's face as if he thought he was dreaming.

(_"Petrov... you can't be here. You're in America..."_) His voice trailed off as his eyes started to close again, his body not quite ready to wake up. He felt a hard slap to the face, eyes popping open again. He felt himself frown up at the other man who continued to stare down at him worriedly.

(_"Alexi... someone knows you were leaving. They killed Mirishka and tried to kill you. We have to leave. I came to take you both but now..."_) The man's voice paused sadly, his brown eyes watery. Neal nodded as he felt a pain in his chest at the memory of finding his love lifeless in their apartment. Something stirred in his chest turning the sadness to anger as he found the strength to sit up and shake the haze from his thoughts.

(_"I have to find who did this before I go. I can't let this go, Petrov. I won't let it go!"_) He leaned back against the wall of the room he found himself in. Petrov shook his head, standing up as he looked down at him.

(_"We can't waste time on revenge, Alexi. It's what killed our father. It's what brought you to where you are now. You know I ran to America for a reason. Come with me. The world has changed. You don't have to fight to live there as you will in this sad place."_) Petrov's words sank in where his revenge was darkest, Alexi nodding in understanding, knowing his brother was right. He reached up a hand from the floor.

(_"Help me up..."_) Neal heard a soft '_pop_' waiting for the man to help him rise but Petrov didn't move, his face suddenly pale, eyes dull. A red stain had begun to form on the front of his brown jacket, Neal's eyes widening as he realized what had happened.

(_"No... Petrov... NO!"_) Neal heard himself scream, the figure of Petrov collapsing to the floor beside him, eyes staring blankly ahead. He reached to touch the still figure but paused when he heard the cocking of a gun. Another figure stepped out from behind a wall and into the room.

"_Kakoy styd..."_ Neal was confused a moment, the words not making sense to him as his mind fought to understand what was going on. The man continued to talk to him in Russian but it was as if his translator had left him and he no longer knew what the words meant. The man stared down at him coldly, dark hair, amber eyes like stones polished to a gloss. The man was obviously upset with him, but he sensed more than that. There was a rivalry of some kind between them.

"_Ya izvinyayus..._" Neal heard the words and although he wasn't sure of the exact translation, some part of him was aware enough to remember the gun in his pocket. He pulled it out slowly as the man raised his own weapon. There was a report and suddenly the man wavered, hand no longer steady, eyes no longer living, the life snuffed from them as he slowly collapsed to the ground. The man was still smiling but his eyes were staring at him without seeing, the image burned into his mind forever.

**()()()**

Neal woke up with a horrible headache, a low groan escaping from his throat as he tried to rise but found his body oddly unresponsive. He opened his eyes, a view of his feet dangling below him evident. He raised his head to see his arms pulled up and behind him as he hung from a rafter, wrists bound tightly with cord. It dug into his wrists as he dangled there just inches above the floor. Something filled his mouth, his lips covered with tape as he tried to speak but couldn't.

"I see our little messenger is finally awake. I think you hit him too hard Jakov. He is going to let us into the hospital to visit with Sergi... aren't you, Mr. Caffrey?" The man with pale features and dark hair suddenly appeared before him, stepping into view. His hand wrapped around his chin and held him still.

"I wouldn't want anything to happen to your Federal friend if you don't allow us access to Sergislev." The man turned his head and looked at one of the henchmen who moved out of sight. A few minutes later they returned with another figure, bound but with a cloth sack over their head. Neal recognize the figure immediately, struggling against his bonds as the mobster smiled.

"I think you remember we showed you he was visiting us. He will live if you help us. Otherwise..." The man turned again and made a motion, the henchmen placing Peter in some kind of stocks, the agent's head pushed up and back as he was forced into a kneeling position in the device.

"This is something '_kak eto nazyvaetsja_' sorry... I forget you don't speak our language... how do you say? We use it when people refuse to talk." He continued to hold Neal's chin in his hand tightly, the men moving around doing something as they cut a slit in the cloth sack, pushing something into Peter's mouth that held it open. The agent's nose was pinched shut as another man brought a large tank of water and a hose over. The hose was placed in Peter's mouth and taped into place.

"He will drown if you don't help us." He made a motion once more and a small switch on the nozzle was turned, water going through the hose slowly as it reached Peter's lips and started to spill into his open mouth. The agent didn't react at first till Neal noticed him swallowing hard and a gurgling sound as he started to choke. Neal struggled against his bonds making sounds of protest beneath his gag. The leader removed the tape and rags from his mouth as he smiled coldly up at him.

"Let him go... I'll do what you want. Just let him go!" Neal felt helpless now but he couldn't choose the mobster over Peter. Peter was his friend. He couldn't let anything happen to him. He felt the man let go of his chin and make a motion to the men who turned the speed of the water down a bit so that it was only trickling into Peter's mouth. The agent continued to shudder as the water spilled slowly into his throat.

"_Spasibo_... Thank you, Mr. Caffrey. Cut him down..." The man walked away, two men moving over and lowering Neal to the ground and cutting him loose. He collapsed to the floor tiredly, vision swimming a bit as he felt the world spin around him. His arms tingled some as he sat up and rubbed at them gingerly. He felt strong hands grasp at his arms and pull him upwards to his feet without much ceremony. The man with dark hair stared at him curiously.

"We weren't properly introduced, were we? I know your name but you don't know mine. I am Vasily but my friends call me Vas. Me and Sergislev go way back and I only wish you help me to return a favor to him. Then you and your Federal friend will be free of us. It is only a '_how is it called?_' little favor I ask. Come now... clean up and we will be off." Vasily started walking and the men holding him up followed immediately, Neal carried between them, feet dragging. He glanced back at Peter worriedly before he was out of the room and his friend out of sight.

**()()()**

Neal wiped a hand through his hair nervously, someone squeezing his arm tightly as he did so.

"_Don't act obvious or your friend will die. We are 'how you say?' friends and you will get me in!_" Vasily was smiling but hissing threats at the con as they moved along the halls of the hospital.

"_Remember I need only push one button on my phone and your friend will drown because of you. I think you would not like that on your conscience?_" The man smirked at him as they continued to the elevators and pushed for the button. The doors opened and they stepped inside, waiting for the doors to close before pushing the 3rd floor. Vasily shoved Neal against the wall, his arm pressing hard against the con's throat. Neal struggled, pulling at the man's jacket and clawing at his arm.

"You will not let them know what is going on or your Federal friend is dead. Understand? I only want to see Sergislev. Five minutes is all I need." His voice was cold as he spoke but Neal nodded, the arm finally released and he could breath again. The Russian adjusted Neal's lapel and brushed off his jacket.

"Smile. I wouldn't want your friends to think something is wrong." Vasily was grinning evilly now, turning as if they had been having a nice conversation. The bell rang indicating their floor was reached and the doors slid quietly open to the third floor. Vasily stepped out followed by Neal who was far from smiling. The Russian made for his pocket but Neal nodded with a defeated look, his usually naturally charming smile forced upon his face. The man stopped mid-reach and nodded with a grin.

"Spasibo... your friend thanks you for that. Now, distract the guard so I can go _visit_." Vasily nudged him forward where the guard sat. It wasn't Jones today or anyone he knew well. He'd talked to the agent a few times but Neal wasn't sure how well he'd be able to distract the man. For Peter's sake he hoped he could do it.

Neal slicked back his hair, glanced at himself in a nearby office window and put on his most charming smile. He walked towards the room and the guard and smiled at him.

"Agent Morin, right? You work with Donnelly." Neal watched the agent look up from his newspaper and turned to him with a curious glance. The agent stood and stretched looking a bit tired as he folded up the newspaper.

"Yeah... you're Burke's consultant. Carrey wasn't it?" The man obviously didn't know him all that well but it was a distraction wasn't it. He nodded despite himself.

"Yeah... but it's Caffrey. How's he doing? Any news on his condition?" Neal had started to move the man a few feet aside, the agent not even noticing till Neal got a bit too close.

"They say he's still in critical. You were at the scene weren't you? He saved your life?" The agent rubbed at his face tiredly, moving a few inches back from Neal who just kept as close as he could, keeping his voice soft.

"_Yeah but I need to tell you something... I'm supposed to be distracting you from noticing the man who just snuck into ICU._" He held the man back a moment as the agent reached for his gun.

"_They have Peter so I had to cooperate but I took his phone. It was all he had to tell them to kill the agent. He's armed but he's inside doing something. Call security and I'll deal with him. Please for Peter's sake!_" He saw the agent hesitate but the look reflected his own fears and the agent finally nodded.

"Think you can watch this place while I get some 'coffee?" Agent Morin said kind of loud so that Vasily could hear. Neal was only just aware of the mobster peeking out of the room at them. He nodded as if he didn't know, the agent nodding back and walking away. Once he was gone, Neal turned to see Vasily's back to him as he hovered over Sergislev's unconscious body. Neal walked into the room and confronted him.

"What is it you're doing? The man's already dying." Neal didn't know why but he was defending the mobster as he had defended him. Vasily just smiled.

"Revenge. He killed my father to take the mob and now I will kill him. It's been too many years but it will finally be done. Do svidan'ya, Alexi." Vasily pulled out a syringe, something Neal hadn't felt when he had lifted the phone. He saw the man smiling as he tapped the bubbles out and started to lift it to the IV tubing.

"This will work within minutes. Nobody will know he didn't die from his injuries till it is too late." The man was reaching up to push the needle in when Neal flew forward to stop him. They struggled for the needle, the point sticking into Neal's arm and breaking off after a bit. He was bleeding, the spot stinging as his fist hit the mobster who pulled a gun and held it on him.

"Fool! Now you'll die like the fool that you are." Vasily kept the gun on him, his hand shaking a bit but slowly steadying as he started towards the exit. Neal pulled the needle out of his arm, wincing at the pain as the wound bled, his vision started to glaze over a bit.

_Ya izvinyayus... I'm sorry my friend that things came so badly. I will fix this._

Neal heard Sergislev's voice in his head, a misty form appearing before him as he stared ahead at Vasily.

_Translate for me and I will fix all. Understand?_

Neal nodded his head despite the haze that began to fill it. He could barely stand much less speak he thought but his lips began to move of their own accord.

"Your father was a fool, Vasily. Kakoy styd... you should have grown to know him but he would have been killed even if I never had been forced to." Neal heard the words pour from his lips despite his body feeling cold and tired. Vasily just stared at Neal, pausing in his escape long enough to stare at him.

"You shot my father? Such a joke! You are not much older than I am to make such a claim. Sergislev was the one. He did it!" Vasily was looking pissed now, gun held a bit more securely.

"I should shoot you after I call to have your friend killed. It would be an appropriate end to all of you." Vasily's voice was cold but Neal felt the urge to speak again, his eyes looking at the misty form only he could see.

"Yes, this man did not kill your father... I am merely speaking through him. Vasily, you have to know the truth of your namesake. He may have passed you his name and legacy but he was far from a good man. Your revenge is not kak eto nazyvaetsja... it is unfounded." Neal's voice kept speaking without him being in control, Sergislev speaking through him or maybe he was just delirious from the drug that coursed through his system. He was only vaguely aware of the blood dripping down his arm from the needle wound.

"You lie... and I don't understand... you speak for whom? Sergislev? He is practically dead. He..." The man's eyes suddenly grew large as if he did believe and his hands moved to cross himself, gun shaking in his fingers.

"I don't believe... it's not truth! He cannot be talking through you. I don't believe!" Vasily's voice screamed, the gun cocking as he moved to the door again, new sounds erupting from outside.

"Freeze, FBI!" The man turned with a horrified look to see Morin and others out there. Neal on some level registered Jones as one of the agents but his mind was going and this other personality was in control for the moment. He was glad to let go, his body feeling more icy by the moment. He shivered, seeing the spirit of Sergislev still there.

"You cannot escape, Vasily. Your father is not the saint you think he was. He killed... he murdered my Mirishka and brother Petrov. He said I was soft. He was jealous that the boss wanted me to take over. I did not want to lead. I wanted to leave. I was going to leave before he killed them... and then I killed him." Neal heard the words pass from his lips but his mind was fading as the drug began to permeate his bloodstream, his legs feeling like jelly. He shuddered but didn't collapsed. Sergislev held him up he thought, his own strength fading fast.

_I can't..._

Neal heard the words in his head as he tried to break free, his body failing him. Sergislev nodded, a ghostly hand caressing his hair like an older brother.

_I'm sorry for this. Poka..._

"This man is innocent and you have involved him in our fight. Do you wish to continue this till everyone is dead? Vasily, give yourself up now before it ends badly." Neal heard those words pass from his lips just before his vision blacked out and he collapsed in a heap to the floor below. He heard the sound of a gun dropped and voices as agent's rushed into the room. He was only vaguely aware of it all as he began to pass out.

Someone shook him, a familiar voice calling out.

_**Neal... Neal wake up! He's been stuck with something, I need a doctor here stat! Neal... stay with us. Tell us where Peter is... Neal...**_

**()()()**

Neal woke up to find himself staring out over a rooftop. He was at the edge of the building, staring across a ruined yard of scrap and piles of rusty metal. It was the place where he'd met Sergislev just over a week ago. He blinked trying to figure out how he was here when he heard someone cough behind him.

"_You thought I looked 'how do you say' kingly looking over my grounds? That says much for one who was afraid of me. Ya izvinyayus... I'm sorry for what has happened. You were brave for one who has been afraid of so much. I understand you better than you think, Caffrey._" Sergislev was smiling at him, those icy blue eyes bright with energy. Neal felt himself smile back, he was himself this time.

"_Spasibo... Caffrey. Ja doizhen idti..._" The man started to turn to leave, a figure in the background slowly coming into view. Neal only caught a bit of the face and long hair but recognized her as Mirishka. He smiled as she waved to the mobster... the man. He reached out and touched the man's sleeve, grasping it loosely.

"_Why did you pick me? I don't understand._" Neal didn't know why he asked but he felt he had to know... to understand what happened between them. The man turned and smiled softly.

"_It was just a chance meeting... kak eto nazyvaetsja... fate maybe. I had no say in it but you were there and it worked out. Spasibo, Caffrey. Nadejus, my eschjo uvidimsja. Atleast under better circumstances._" His smile quirked up just a little before he turned again and faded into the background another figure appearing near the woman... a blondish man. They all three hugged like family and disappeared leaving Neal along on the rooftop.

"Poka... Sergislev. Spasibo and Ne za chto..." Neal heard the words escape his lips as the dream faded and he was plunged into darkness.

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note:** _Hopefully I wrote everything correctly. I felt a need to be semi authentic but I don't know a thing about Russian beyond "**do svidan'ya** and **Nyet**. I went to several sites and they all seemed to say the same thing so I just picked some simple phrases I hope won't be too weird. Here are the phrases I used in case you were confused:_

**How is it called? (How do you say?)** - _Kak eto nazyvaetsja?_  
**What a shame!** - _Kakoy styd_  
**I'm sorry.** - _ya izvinyayus_  
**Good-bye - (formal)** _Do svidan'ya_  
**Good-bye (so long) (informal)** - _poka_  
**You are welcome.** - _Ne za chto_  
**I must be going.** - _Ja doizhen idti_  
**Hope we'll meet again** - _Nadejus, my eschjo uvidimsja_  
**Thank you** - _Spasibo_


	6. Chapter 6

**(Chapter 6)**

"They said he should be better in a few days. They found an antidote to the poison from the man who gave it to him. He begged forgiveness for what he did. Dammit... why did this all have to happen?" It was Peter's voice that he heard as he woke up. The agent sounded tired but he sounded well, something that made Neal feel better as he thought back to the last few days. They had found Peter and he was ok! Vasily must have had a change of heart as Sergislev had. He felt his lips part as he sighed.

"Did you hear that, Peter... he's waking up! Neal... It's El." Elizabeth Burke's voice sounded relieved as he felt a hand gently caressing his hair. He felt as well as heard a low groan from his throat then another sigh escape his lips as he tried to wake up.

"Just take your time, Neal. We're here." El's voice continued to speak softly to him, her hand gently caressing his hair. He nodded ever so slightly, another sigh escaping his lips as he coughed and became aware of brightness, closing his eyes again.

"Turn the lamp off, Peter." He heard a rustling of sounds around him and a soft '_click_' of something as he sensed the room grow darker. Neal slowly reopened his eyes, the light a little less glaring now as he shifted to focus on the figures around him. He was aware of some one's hand over his face, the motion of their fingers gently combing his hair. He smiled as he recognized the figure and blinked at them.

"El?" He rasped, his throat feeling dry and tight. He had remembered something about a dream and someone talking. His mind was a bit hazy as to what had happened. He turned at the touch of a much firmer hand on his arm. Peter sat there to his right, the agent smiling down at him tiredly.

"Hey buddy... We were worried about you there for a few." Peter sounded as if nothing had happened other than Neal being hurt. Then he remembered and reached up with a desperate hand to his friend's arm.

"Peter, you're alright..." His voice sounded hoarse as he became excited remembering everything. It was overwhelming, a coughing fit seizing him for a moment as he felt a hand gently pat his back as they helped him sit up. It ended after a moment and Neal looked up at those honest brown eyes curiously. Peter nodded.

"Yeah, Vasily led them to me. Told his men to stand down. After what happened, at least what I heard happened, he's become a new person. He's in prison for a while but he's a born again Christian. Mind telling me what happened in Sergislev's room? No body's really sure what you did but Vasily was ranting and raving about spirits and such. Nobody could understand what it was and they were shocked he gave the antidote for you and everything without so much as calling a lawyer. He almost seemed happy to go to prison." Peter ran a hand through his hair as he glanced down at Neal as if awaiting an answer. Neal thought about it a moment the little he knew and understood not knowing if he could really explain what it was had happened. He wasn't sure he believed it himself and he had been there.

"I can't really say. I guess I'm more convincing than I thought." He shrugged with a slight wryness to his smile. He really wasn't sure what to say, everything confused in his mind. He had been pretty ill when the incident happened so for all he knew it had been one big poison induced hallucination. He wasn't about to look up Vasily for confirmation, taking Peter's word for what had happened for now. Peter nodded, punching his arm gently.

"Yeah, I guess so. He practically begged to be put away." He arched at brow at him but Neal just shrugged. El cleared her throat to change the subject, Neal looking at her as she made a non-verbal motion to Peter who sighed quietly but nodded as he put on a fake smile. Something was up but Neal wasn't sure what.

"Oh, they said you can leave tomorrow if all the tests come back ok. It's been a couple of days since the incident. The antidote did most of the work so you healed up pretty quickly they said after that. All the blood work has been coming back negative for any further complications." He paused there but there was still this unspoken tension in the air that Neal could sense from El as she continued to look at Peter expectantly. He finally nodded reluctantly as he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Something the matter I should know about besides the fact I'm apparently healthy and able to reform Russian mobsters?" Neal was trying to break the tension but Peter only half smiled before opening his mouth and speaking again.

"We were going to wait till you were out but... Sergislev, he passed last night." Peter's voice had gone down a few octaves, his tone reverent. Neal blinked unsure what to think of those words till it hit him. He sat up a bit straighter, El helping him with his pillows but he just leaned back after a moment and sighed.

"He saved my life. I don't know why but... he saved me." Neal looked confused if not saddened by the news. Maybe he had known remembering his dream that it was true but he had hoped the man would live. Peter patted his shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry, Neal. I know it's kind of uncertain this whole situation but he was in pain. He went peacefully in his sleep." Peter continued to keep his hand lightly on his shoulder, Neal nodding despite the shock of hearing what happened. Why did the man's death bother him other than the fact of their chance acquaintance? He felt a bit of confusion on the matter but he knew he would miss the man regardless of his past. He heard Peter cough and turned to look up at him again. Was there more? He saw something there in the agent's eyes.

"The doctors didn't discover this till after the fact but... Sergislev was dying. He had very little time and he knew it. They found out he was dying of some rare form of leukemia only found in certain regions of the Ukraine. Something to do with toxins in the water and air there. Perhaps that's why he was kind to you. He wanted to do something good before he left this earth." He mussed Neal's hair who just smirked a little back, although inside was feeling a bit of remorse for not being able to do more for the mobster.

**()()()**

A few days passed and Neal was out of the hospital. Peter came to pick him up, handing him a garment bag and some dress shoes he recognized as from his own closet. June must have sent them but why such fancy duds as these? These were more event clothes than every day wear. He glanced at the agent curiously who smiled enigmatically.

"Just put it on. I'll be right outside when you're ready." Peter was actually dressed pretty snazzy in a nice dark suit with a dark maroon tie. Something was up but Neal shrugged just happy to be leaving the confines of the hospital. He shrugged out of his sleep pants and tee and pulled on a clean tee, black socks and suit. He looked at himself in the bathroom door mirror and straightened up his collar as much as he could. The suit was a deep blue, not quite navy with a deep burgundy tie, white shirt and dark leather loafers to match. He took a few minutes to tidy up his hair and wash his face, brushing his teeth thinking they must be going somewhere important if June sent this for him. Once he was ready he turned to see Peter there quietly watching him. He wasn't surprised but still it was a bit odd to find his friend just there. Peter smiled in a fatherly sort of way.

"Ready? El's outside with the wheelchair. Hospital orders at least to the threshold of the hospital." Neal sighed but nodded, following his friend outside of the room as they took his stuff in hand and Neal lowered himself into the waiting chair. El looked dressed up as well, wearing a nice black dress with a matching coat and hat. He had never seen her wear a hat before but it was a nice addition. He listened to the squeak of the wheelchair and the soft chattering of his friend as they spoke to him about this and that on the way out of the hospital. At the entrance they stopped and he rose slowly, Peter running to get the car as he and El waited.

"So... where are we going?" He knew something was up and saw her peer at him without giving anything away. She gently took his arm in hers.

"You'll find out. Come on. There's Peter with the car." She walked him to the waiting Taurus as it drove up to the curb. She sat in the front as Neal slipped into the back and they took off.

The ride was relatively normal, the city passing through until they made a turn onto a more pastoral drive that led to somewhere Neal had been a few times before. He winced at the thought of going there and wondered now at the reasoning behind their visit. He grew anxious, sitting up and peering out the window nervously. Peter must have seen him through the rear-view mirror.

"Neal?" Peter's voice was soft, questioning as Neal turned to look at his friend.

"I'm ok. I just... it's too soon to come back here." He was thinking about when he had visited here not so long ago to see Kate's father's plot when she had left him a message. Her remains had been buried in an urn next to her father. Neal felt his body trembling at being in such close proximity to the woman he loved. He wasn't sure he could deal. He felt a hand touch his and saw El looking back at him.

"It's ok, Neal. We'll be here with you. Maybe we should have warned him Peter." She was talking to Peter, her back to him as she spoke quietly. Peter nodded finally.

"I'm sorry but I didn't want to scare you. I know how you feel about this place but I figured you'd want to be there. We can just pay our respects and go. The main group should be gone already. Jones was keeping tabs for me and texting me the info. I wanted to be sure everything was good before we came in." Peter kept his voice reasonable but the hint of worry was there. He was concerned.

"I don't understand... who is it we're going to see? Ka..." He couldn't bring himself to say it but watched as Peter shook his head. El looked surprised as well.

"Oh honey... I'm sorry. We... That's right. It's still so soon. Sergislev, the man from your case. His service was here today. It's just ending. Peter thought you might want to come. We didn't even think about the fact who else was here." Her face flushed with a chagrined look, her blue eyes looking at Peter who's reflection mirrored her look.

Peter parked the car just beyond a copse of small trees, a group of very brooding Russian types making their way across the idyllic roads of the cemetery in dark suits and veils in some cases. Once they had passed and left, Neal heard the buzz of a phone and saw Peter pull his from his pocket, eyes glancing down at the screen.

"Jones says the main party has left and only the preacher and workers are there. We can go in now if you want." Peter kept his voice neutral, Neal nodding after a moment as he reached for the handle and pulled the door open. He stepped out into the crisp Autumn air and heard the sound of gravel beneath his shoes as he walked passed the car and followed Peter towards the same place they saw the others leaving. They passed through a small meadow of dew touched grass, past various headstones till they came to the freshly dug and not yet filled grave of Alexandre Sergislev. Peter paused when he saw Neal stop a few feet behind him.

"Neal?" He called in that way when he knew the young man was upset. It made him think of a big brother looking out for a younger one. He just stood there unable to move. A hand touched his arm and grasped it gently. It was El, her face smiling at him softly as he let her lead him forward. They stood at the edge, the preacher nodding to them and smiling.

"You're a bit late for the ceremony but I was told there might be a few stragglers." He handed the shovel to Peter who nodded back as he walked to the grave, said a few quiet words and threw a bit of soil onto the grave. He crossed himself and then moved aside, El taking the shovel next and doing the same. She waited as Neal finally moved forward and his hand curled around the shovel handle uncertainly. She and Peter stood aside, talking quietly to the preacher as he stared down at the casket below. It was a nice mahogany box with a family crest of some kind he vaguely recognized as Russian.

"_Thank you Alexi. I wish... we could have met under better circumstances. Spasibo..._" He finally dug up a bit of the dirt and tossed it onto the box making a little prayer in his mind before returning the shovel to the preacher and walking away. Peter and El followed him after a quick farewell to the Priest. Peter caught up with Neal first, his hand gently touching his shoulder. Neal paused and turned.

"You ok?" Peter seemed unsure what else to say, Neal nodding quietly.

"Give me a few minutes?" He looked at Peter who nodded as Neal moved a few yards away to a familiar headstone. He dusted off the stone and adjusted the flowers already there. Mozzie must have come since he'd been too busy lately with all the excitement. Neal sighed, wiping at his eyes as he knelt there.

"_I miss you. It's not the same without you here._" He bent his head sadly as he felt warm tears fall down his cheek but he didn't cry beyond that. He finally stood up after a moment, touching his fingers to his lips and touching it to the stone. He turned and started to walk back towards the car, his eyes only looking up when he saw El watching him return. He wiped self-consciously at his eyes as he tried to pin on the usual smile he wore as his mask. It didn't help but it made him think he was happy if only for a bit. El smiled back but he knew she knew better.

"I was thinking Italian. What do you think?" She slipped into the car as he opened the back door and slid inside. He saw Peter, arm stretched across the back of the seat as he turned to look at him.

"Italian sounds great. Neal?" Peter was smiling at him with that brotherly grin he used when they were more equals. Neal nodded, leaning back in the seat and staring out the window.

"Sounds good to me. I heard there's a new place not too far from your house. It's outside my radius though." He continued to stare outside the window as he heard and felt the car take off. He heard a soft chuckle from the front.

"Not a problem. I think we can manage it this once. What street was it on?" Peter started to push buttons on the dash screen, Neal sitting up as he leaned forward to reach across.

"I think it was on Elm but I could be... OUCH! What was that for?" Neal pulled back his hand, rubbing it as El gave her husband a reproachful look for what he did. Peter shrugged with a '_what did I do?_' glance.

"That's for reaching to mess with the map. Just give me the address already. I can manage." Peter's tone had turned to crotchety father again, Neal pouting a bit.

"What if I conveniently forget for that slap on the hand?" Neal mock glared at the agent, El nodding in agreement as Peter felt himself being ganged up on.

"Fine... I'm sorry. Bad habit since you like to press buttons and mess up my settings. So... where is this new place?" Peter was sitting back as Neal reached forward gingerly again, afraid of getting slapped on the hand but when Peter didn't, he leaned forward more and pushed at the screen.

"There! Just follow those directions." He looked pleased with himself, a confused look on Peter's face.

"Are you sure that's right, Neal? It says here I'm about to take a right off a bridge into the Hudson. I don't think those are the right directions unless you want us to go by gondola and this ain't no gondola." Peter smirked with a slightly irritated glance. Neal blinked looking again.

"No that's the underpass... there's a little turn around there. Mozzie said the spaghetti was the die for." Neal was smiling, El looking exciting.

"Sound intriguing!" Her voice rang out with excitement as she gently patted him on the shoulder, Peter nodding like the father of the group.

"Ok but if we end up in the Hudson, you're paying to have this thing cleaned up." Peter said in mock seriousness. Neal rolled his eyes.

"Consider it an upgrade to that speedboat you could have had if you went corporate."

**(The End)**

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Author's note****:** _This was kind of hard to end considering the last chapter but I think it turned out ok. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!_


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